Crazy.

Where do you get to that point? Where insanity is safer than logic, where memory loss is a pleasure, where sights and sounds rush at you like bullets of color. What If life was a sickly twisted combination of reality and dreams? What if I told you ecstasy was made to overshadow pain? Call me crazy, or call me ready. Hanging by a thread or splashing in uncertain waters, life is useless unless every moment is grasped and held like it is your last. What does it mean to let go? Is it running away from it all and never turning back? Is it giving up on life? No, letting go is accepting life for what it is and people for who they are because we will never be in full control of any human being other than ourselves. Control comes from power, power is derived from fear. Where is that place where control comes from love? That place will never exist because love and pain walk a long dusty road, hand in hand, forever to be attached to one another. When love fails to stand strong, pain is there to brace the fall, only for the once beautiful love to be battered and bruised by the pain. So where is happiness…Somewhere roaming in a desert, only to be found by someone who is crazy enough to be walking through a desert? There you have it. Happiness is crazy, and so am I. �"Lauren Griner 2:22 AM 6-5-09

Reviews

[mess of gorgeous chaos]

I love this. Your words flow nicely, and the poem is very powerful. I especially like this line: Hanging by a thread or splashing in uncertain waters, life is useless unless every moment is grasped and held like it is your last.